


Historical Accuracy

by Wolfie1991



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfie1991/pseuds/Wolfie1991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When her lover slaps the ancient, musty book in front of her and asks her for an explanation of Umbran history, Jeanne remembers there is much Cereza does not know and there is no one to blame but herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Historical Accuracy

**Author's Note:**

> All credit to this prompt goes to umbranheart.tumblr.com and their really wicked post. Thank you for letting me use your wicked headcanon as a prompt ^^ (http://umbranheart.tumblr.com/post/136474617012/ok-but-you-know-what-kills-me-bayos-b2-outfit-is)

“Jeanne!” The loud clack of Bayonetta’s heels echoed on the perfectly polished wood floor of their Manhattan highrise and Jeanne sighed.

She was attempting to correct the last batch of tests before her students were free to leave for the summer and she just entering the zone. A zone she knew was about to get shot to hell because she knew _that_ tone.

Setting down her pen, she rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses as Bayonetta all but barrelled into the living room, mischief certainly in tow.

“Yes?” She quirked her eyebrow and pointed to the mess of papers and red scribbles she had been working on for the better part of her Saturday. Bayonetta wasted no time acknowledging that she was interrupting and sat down opposite to her.

She dropped a huge, leather bound tome that still smelled like a decomposing cow on her precious tests and reclined back on her seat, customary devil may care firmly in place.

“Don’t huff at me, I bring your favorite thing ever.” Cracking the ancient book open, she landed on an illustration heavy section with full pages of images interspersed with little text. “Books! And besides, I make you cupcakes when you are working. From scratch too so I’ve more than earned the interruption.”

She didn’t want to smile and make her lover’s unbearably smug face even more smug but Bayonetta was as endearing as she was amazing and she couldn’t help the dawning smile on her face.

“You make a, shall we say, strong case anchored in cupcakes.” She said, looking down and examining the open pages before her. She was quite familiar with that book, it had been one of her first priorities when she tried to save as much of the Umbra as she could.

Before them was the definitive compendium on Umbra life, written for novice Witches and it was very extensive yet quite simple. The scholar who had dedicated her life to the teaching of their history and making a book that was both intricate and accessible, a feat not easily done, had been one of Jeanne’s early heroes. If she was being honest, it was probably her that had made her realize the power of history which was something she tried to impart to her students with varying degrees of success.

“Matriarch Roa’s magnum opus, a good choice Cereza.” She was about to leaf away from the page, distracted by her fondness of the old book but Bayonetta stilled her hand.

“Hey now, don’t you spoil my interruption with your hardon for books.” Jeanne snorted and rolled her eyes, attention going back to the crisp black lines and vivid colours of the illustrations. “I wanted to ask you what these are.”

A gloved hand pointed to an assembly of the several types of Umbra outfits and their uses, something that had been drilled into her so relentlessly she didn’t even have to pay much mind to the images.

“Well, these are the different sorts of attires Umbra wore. You have the formal here, which you usually use for whatever reason, the battle robes, everyday robes and several different types of weather condition and environment robes.”

Bayonetta blinked at her, quickly refocusing on the detailed illustrations a second later as she frowned in concentration.

“You mean to tell me we can dress other things?”

The statement caught Jeanne by surprise and then a second later realization hit her like a Cherubim on a rampage. Cereza had never fully recovered her memories, that was a fact she knew very well, but even if she had somehow recovered them there was no way for her to know.

There was a moment of awkward silence, Bayonetta stared at her expectantly and Jeanne could only muster bafflement, mostly at herself. The harsh burn of embarrassment burned hotter than she expected, what kind of friend and lover was she that she had so easily forgotten Cereza had never had the chance to learn of the many things she took for granted. It wasn’t too easy meeting up with her so Jeanne usually stuck to the important things like fighting or shapeshifting but that had left so many gaps they had had for than enough time to repair.

What had Jeanne done? A whole lot of nothing and now that Cereza had come to her for help, she was acting like she was some unruly student.

Seeing her face, Bayonetta was about to brush her question off and hide her hurt behind a flirtatious front but Jeanne beat her to it.

“I’m sorry, it never occurred to me that...that you couldn’t have known.” She laid her hand over Cereza’s, brushing her knuckles with a thumb and softly lifted her hand off the page. Bayonetta gnashed her teeth but didn’t bolt away, something that was quite possible of happening whenever she found herself out of her depth, especially on Umbran matters.

The young outcast who had only been met with scorn from her peers had never truly gone away and clamming up and dropping the subject was her favorite defense mechanism.

Going back a couple of pages, Jeanne tapped the yellowed page. “Witches can summon a vast array of outfits and designs, depending on talent and rank. What we call the Formal is actually one of our most minimalist designs. Basically any Witch can easily and almost instinctively summon it.” Bayonetta was listening to her with rapt attention, slightly nodding along to her words. “Its supposed to be an equalizer. In the truly solemn, important functions of our Clan only it was allowed. No more no less.” She skipped ahead the pages with the lengthy takes on history and lore, that wasn’t the important part right now. “However, it is not the most well designed and has suffered almost no alterations since the first Witches communed with Inferno.”

Jeanne had only worn it a few times, most recently in the fight against Jubileus. Her strength was quite depleted and she had not the energy or concentration to summon anything more complex but beyond that, she had seldom worn it. Most courtly and formal occasions she had worn lavish suits and dresses, as was fit for the princess and heir.

“The Battle attire was usually just used by the most dedicated Angel hunters of our Clan” The illustrations now showed more complex designs and Bayonetta peered closer at the intriguing concepts. “And of course, when the Wars started, many of our sisters took to using it. It’s more armored, with better mobility and a host of other good features the Formal didn’t really have. Part of our edge in combat against the Lumen was thanks to them.”

“So, I can summon it? I could do with a change of clothes, darling, the Formal is so last season.” Bayonetta quipped, a determined look setting over her features and Jeanne nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Of course, you may mod it as you see fit too. I’m the only one around to enforce the rules and I think I’ll let you off the hook.” She tossed, trying to prod her lover into a not so stormy mood.

Bayonetta smirked, leaning closer. “Oh will you? Maybe I require some assistance with all of these fancy new clothes…” Her tone glided effortlessly into husky as her hand travelled up Jeanne’s leg. “Who knows what goes where, darling.”

Jeanne’s eyes darkened at the clear invitation but she knew other responsibilities spoke louder than the silky tones that held so much promise. “You’re right indeed, Cereza, you do need an extra pair of hands.”

Bayonetta’s hand slid much higher up her thigh, their faces almost touching when Jeanne gave her a quick peck and snatched her hand back onto the table. It had taken her every last grain of willpower to not just simply give in but sooner she got the damnable corrections done, the sooner they could trot off together.

“And so do I. I find myself with an unpleasant task in hands, help me with it and I’ll help you both in and _out_ of your new catsuit.”

Bayonetta groaned and leaned back in her chair with all the flair of a high school drama student. She hated when raw magnetism and hardcore flirting didn’t work, especially on Jeanne!

“You drive a hard bargain, princess. You’ll have to make it worth my precious time.” She huffed, crossing her toned arms in front of her chest.

“Oh, I will.” Jeanne promised, yanking her forward for a heated kiss.

I wasn’t how Bayonetta envisioned the rest of her afternoon but she could understand the medium term gains.


End file.
